Wolf Claim (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 3) (15 page)

Mine
. The declaration seared to her soul and the sizzling in her chest increased. When she released his shoulder and laved at the spot, he shuddered. “Mine,” she repeated aloud. “My mate.”

Predatory eyes watched her every move, and she reveled in the press of his flesh into hers. His control was balanced on the edge. She scented it, saw it, felt it—Owen’s control was slipping. Thrilled, she settled back and, for the third time since they’d returned to the Alpha’s house, she bared her throat to him. “Yours,” she whispered. He struck, no hesitation, no caution and his bite took her right at the juncture of the shoulder and her neck. His teeth sank in and his hips began to pump.

His low growl vibrated against her, but he didn’t release her throat as he pushed in again, going deeper with each stroke. The world spiraled out and the final sizzle of the mating bond snapped into place, vibrant and alive. She could feel Owen—feel his joy, his fear, and his possession. It rushed through her, storming her defenses, stamping her even as she rushed through him.

No more secrets. No more longing. Owen released her neck and threw his head back. His howl rose as he slammed into her. Every thrust bumped her clit and her thoughts scattered. Over and over, he thrust and sent her closer and closer to the edge.

“Mine.” He growled the word and his control snapped. He didn’t hold back as he drove into her and sent her over the edge. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t do anything but hold on as the world narrowed to Owen. Inside her body, inside her soul, he filled up all the empty places. She went off the edge, her orgasm taking her apart from the inside out. She scattered on the wind only to come back together glued to Owen as he came with a roar.

She drifted back to the feel of his arms around her. At some point, he’d rolled onto his back and cushioned her against his chest. His fingers traced the bite on her shoulder, the touch a discomfort and a treasure in the same sensation.
His.
A thrill threaded through her and she spread her fingers against his side.

“You okay? I lost you for a little while there.” Concern darkened the playfulness in his voice.

“I’m better than okay.” She pressed a kiss to his chest. “I’m wonderful.” Had she passed out? Maybe. Tiny quakes of pleasure continued to erupt in her system. She felt bruised and euphoric in the same breath.
Mate
. “You’re mine.” Tears filled her eyes all over again. She hadn’t realized until he’d claimed her how resigned she’d become to the idea of losing him.

“And you’re mine.” The smile in his voice, combined with the steady beat of his heart, stroked over her senses. “I will never hurt you again. I had no idea how badly I’d hurt you before.”

Some things were clearer when one mated. She’d heard it would happen, but she had no idea of how it truly felt. No, he hadn’t understood how deeply his rejection had cut her. But then, she hadn’t realized… “It hurt you, too. To walk away. But you wanted to protect me, even from yourself.”

Lifting her head, she met his rueful smile with one of her own. “I still think you can do better.”

She slapped his chest, and his grin widened. “Be nice to my mate,” she ordered. “You’re mine. That means you’re the best for me and the only one I want, now or ever.” Certainty filled her soul, because she could feel his heart as surely as she could her own.

“Forever,” he agreed, but the solemnity in his eyes worried her.

“What is it? You can’t have regrets this soon.”

He tightened his arm around her. “Not regrets—worry. You’ve been through so much and I should have waited, given you more time to recover.”

“Oh,” she said, with a roll of her eyes. “Do you really think you’re the only one who makes decisions here?”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “I know I’m not, but I also know you won’t look after you. So I must.”

Possessive and sweet, the perfect combination. “I chose very well.”

He chuckled and brushed a kiss to the top of her head. “Now you need to rest—or should I get you some food? You haven’t eaten.”

Her stomach rumbled on cue and they both laughed. Her humor, however, proved fleeting. The silence on her part didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, what is it?”

“We need to talk to Brett about the poison. I need to let you both know what I figured out.” The words had a sobering effect. Owen’s arms tightened around her.

“It can keep. Tonight you eat, you rest. Tomorrow, we will deal with it.”

But…
She lifted her head. “What if he kills someone else?”

Though his expression was firm, his gaze remained kind. “Do you know who it is?”

“Well, no.”

“Have you figured out a motive?”

She shook her head slowly. “No, but I know how the poison works.”

“And that’s important,” he said. “You’re right. But what’s also important is you not relapsing or getting ill. You are too valuable. Trust me, mate, you need to rest. Brett is not sitting idle. His Hunters are working on it.”

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Mate.”

He eased her head back to his shoulder and she snuggled to him. “Yes, Mate. Food or sleep first?”

Food sounded good, but it meant moving. She yawned, her nagging exhaustion tugging at her. Despite understanding the poison, they still had so many questions. Owen ran his hand up her spine and her focus vanished. A moment later, he flipped her over onto her belly and nudged her legs apart.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he whispered against her ear and thrust into her gently. Heat pulsed in her sex, her flesh so sensitive from the earlier loving that she felt every glorious inch of him lighting her up. “Let me help you with that.”

He thrust deep and bit down on her shoulder and she forgot how to think at all.

Dawn arrived too soon. Owen watched the light appear along the edges of the curtains blocking the windows. The soft sounds of Gillian’s respiration acted like a balm on his system. He refused, however, to sleep. Not when he was all that stood between his mate and the threat that had tried to take her life.

Mate.
 

The corner of his mouth pulled upward. Glancing down at her, he stroked her wild array of blonde curls spilling over his skin. The silky locks slid between his fingers. He could spend hours petting her, had spent hours caressing every inch of her body until he’d worn her out and she’d finally tumbled into restful sleep. Her scent twined with his permeated the room. A little after three in the morning, Brett returned.

Owen had listened to him secure the house. He’d left alone and returned alone. Three other wolves ran a patrol outside. Brett had beefed up his security, and it wasn’t out of concern with his own safety, Owen understood. With a soft exhale, Gillian stretched, then rolled off of him and onto her side. She kept her back against him, one foot tucked between his.

Her nearness offered him a sense of hope he’d never experienced before and a dread he couldn’t shake. Someone in Hudson River was killing wolves—no, not killing.
Murder
. Battles for dominance, bloody fights over territory, even filthy altercations over temper, those were normal.
Murder?
It went against the grain and his wolf maintained the same predatory watchfulness they’d adopted the night before.

Wearing her out had been an entirely pleasurable experience, but he’d wanted her to stay put and safe. They couldn’t rule out the possibility the killer targeted her. It could have been contact with the body. Bodies.
If so, why didn’t any of the other wolves who touched them get sick? Why her?
 

Because she was a healer. She’d figured out how to defeat the poison and Owen suspected, if she encountered another poison victim before they died, she would cure them.
But at what cost?
Around and around, his mind circled. Give him a firm enemy or target any day of the week, he’d find a way to combat it. But a murderer striking from the shadows, using poison?

Filthy fucking coward.

His phone buzzed. Snagging it before it woke his mate, he saw Mason’s name on the screen and answered before it buzzed a second time. “She’s resting.”

“Good. Any lasting damage?”

“I don’t think so. Should I be watching for it?” Emma would have warned their Alpha. Fresh worry fisted his heart.

“Watch for everything.” Not exactly comforting words. “So you’ve claimed our Gillian?”

He didn’t bother to ask how Mason knew. “Yes.”

“Good. It’s about time. Now that you have that sorted out, can you finish this and bring her home?”

Owen smiled faintly. “We’re working on it. Mason?”

“Yes?”

“Why would a wolf commit murder?”

“To save their mate, to protect their family…”

“That wouldn’t be murder, though.” The whole thing bothered Owen. “You would kill to protect your mate.”
Had killed
. “So would I. So would any mated wolf. Murder is colder, more calculated, and this isn’t a fight with tooth and claw. It’s poison.”

The idea was simply anathema. “I don’t know. A disturbed mind perhaps…”

Disturbed mind
. “Old Man Carter.”

“What?”

“Years ago, we had a disturbed wolf. Toman and Thomas put him down. Talk to Thomas and Emma. Carter supposedly killed his family, but he came to Emma’s for help. Most of what I know is rumors. Thomas would remember.” So would Emma, because Gillian certainly had.

“What does one mad wolf here have to do with the poisoning there?” Mason hadn’t said no to the request. He simply wanted more details.

“I don’t know, but I can’t help thinking the only mankillers we’ve ever dealt with were so mad, they couldn’t
stop
killing. They hunted without regard for life or limb. They used their teeth, their claws, and their strength.”

“Strength…” Mason echoed the word and Owen wanted to swear.

“We’re not looking for a strong wolf.”

“No, you’re not.” Mason growled. “Speak to Brett, and take care of our girl. I’ll find out what I can about Old Man Carter.”

“You might want to talk to Dad. He’s been a Hunter longer than either of us has been alive. He would have been one of the ones tasked with putting them down.” As Owen was.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“And I’ll take care of her.” She hadn’t stirred once during his conversation, her breathing remained so deep. God, she trusted him utterly. Although that trust could make her vulnerable, his wolf didn’t care. Their mate was right to trust them because they would never let anything happen to her.

“Hey, Owen?”

“Yeah?”

“Congratulations.” Warmth echoed down the line. “I am happy for you both and, while normally I would wait until you’re here, you have my blessing and have had it.”

Mason’s derisive
uh-huh
echoed back to at Owen. “Thank you. And thank you for not sending Dylan with her.”

“I wouldn’t have done that to you. Thought about it, but I’m getting really good at spotting the mating signs.”

Mating signs
. Tracing his fingers along the curve of her hip, Owen smiled. Mate.
Mine
. “Thank you all the same.”

“You’re welcome. Now go get this done. I want you two home where I can keep you safe.” The call disconnected, his Alpha not bothering to wait for a response.

“There’s coffee downstairs.” Brett’s voice carried from across the hall. The Alpha hadn’t set one foot near Owen and Gillian’s bedroom door. “And I have food. Fresh and
I
bought it.”

“I’ll be down in a moment.” He eased from the bed and dragged the sheets up to cover his mate. Aggravation scraped over his nerves. Neither he nor his wolf wanted to leave her. Mates needed time to adapt, time to cement the bond between them. He could feel her heart, pure and unflinching, beating in tandem with his own.

They deserved days together, allowing time to learn every nuance of pleasure possible. Time to discover more about each other—to navigate the intricacies of being bound together. Dragging on a pair of jeans, he forced himself away from the bed.

When they returned to Willow Bend, they would have their time. Leaning down, he brushed a kiss to her forehead, then rose and checked the windows. The glass was thick, but the second story was easily accessible for a wolf. He scanned the land around the house. He’d already picked out the three Hunters on their patrols and identified a half dozen more stationed at different intervals.

Brett was taking no chances with Gillian’s safety. After checking her once more, he left the door partially ajar so he could hear everything. No other fresh scents were in the house except for Brett’s. The Alpha waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, holding out a mug of coffee in invitation.

“Thank you,” Owen said after walking down to join him. “I didn’t hear you leave again.”

“I know,” was the only comment Brett offered. “Let’s just say I have my ways. I wanted to make sure whatever food and drink I offered you two hadn’t been compromised.”

A bitter pill for an Alpha to swallow—for any wolf, really—to be uncertain of whom within the pack could be trusted.

“You have a murderer.” He didn’t bother with preamble, not softening the blow. His mate was in enough danger; he didn’t have time to make light of the current situation.

 “Don’t try to sugarcoat it for me.” Brett pointed to the open sitting room. “Food is in here, and we have a vantage point to see her door. I take it she is still sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Brett tipped his coffee cup back and drained it, before facing Owen with a faint smile. “Congratulations.”

He inclined his head once, accepting the offer as it was intended.

“I wouldn’t have won anyway,” the Alpha admitted, surprising Owen. “But I would have enjoyed trying.”

“Hmm.” Owen refused to be baited. Gillian loved him, chose him, and if Brett wanted to enjoy a little fun at his expense, he wouldn’t begrudge him. “What do you know?”

The amusement in the other wolf’s face disappeared. “Three male youths, barely adults in their own right, are missing. Across the pack, no one has seen them.” He tossed a breakfast sandwich to Owen.